A Promise
by The Erudite
Summary: First fic. A little description of the events leading to, during, and after the confrontation with Grima and the relationships therein. Might add to it, might not, as it was all done on a whim. Pairings are from my playthrough, so I apologize if they're incongruous with yours. Feedback is greatly appreciated, as it will most likely determine whether or not I continue.
1. A Promise

A Promise

"Promise me, Robin, that you'll not do such a thing."  
Robin considered the question briefly. He knew the subject would arise, but never thought the question would come at a time when he could be pressed for an answer. To Robin, the solution was clear and the plan was in motion: he would strike the Fell Dragon down, regardless of consequence to himself. What good, Robin justified to himself, would passing the problem along another few centuries do? No, the beast would meet its end now, no matter what. The current conflict was less clear, however: should Robin let what may be his final words to his comrade be a lie, so as to comfort him, or should he make the truth of his plans clear to his trusted friend and run the risk of some misguided benevolent subterfuge? At length, Robin concluded that he would not break his greatest friend's trust in his final moments and revealed his opinion: "I'm sorry, Chrom," his blue haired compatriot's eyes deadened, "but I won't make promises I can't keep. If it should come to sacrificing myself... I won't hesitate and lose my chance." The Shepherds' captain stared at his tactician staunchly, briefly brandishing the Brand which lie on his shoulder. "There must be another way..." he murmured, half to his tactician and half to himself. Robin sighed; Chrom had been forced to repeat this phrase like some accursed mantra throughout the course of their journey, but now it felt more like a platitude than an aspiration. Suddenly, the cobalt captain cried out, "Damn you, Robin! I have done all I can for you, as you are my greatest friend. I would wish nothing more than your eternal happiness, and yet you seem determined to throw your life away! Why do you betray me as such?!"  
"Chrom, please!" the tactician belted back, "You stand as a brother to me, I do not betray you! I would keep you, your children, and their children and so on safe from harm, at the cost of but one life! Can you not see the pure sense and logic of it?!"  
"To hell with logic and to hell with you!" Chrom roared back, "I've found a way to circumvent every foretold tragedy, and I'll be damned if I can't do as much here!" Chrom stormed off, his small cape flourishing in the wind and his hair whipped furiously by his about-face. Robin concluded that it would be unwise to share his plans with any of the other Shepherds, lest they have a similar reaction and tear the camp apart in their anger.

Chrom sauntered into the tent, his eyes heavy and glassed with moisture. His hands racked his shimmering hair as he pondered irritably. His wife, Sumia, drifted in on careful feet to seek the cause of her husband's sorrow. "It's Robin," Chrom strained, "He's willing to simply throw himself into..." Chrom hesitated, considering how to explain his frustration to his betrothed. "Gods," he blurted, "you'll forgive my blubbering. I fear he does not heed himself properly and will pay for it when the time comes," the captain resolved enigmatically.  
"Why do you not discuss your concern with him, then?" the confused pegasus knight pleaded to her husband's shaken form.  
"He refuses to see reason," Chrom replied, himself wondering whether that was his only justification.  
"Perhaps I should speak with him?" Sumia guessed.  
"No, that would be unwise. I think I'll speak with him again tomorrow to see if his mind has led him elsewhere," Chrom sighed, failing to convince himself again. He began to remove his armor and beckoned his wife to join him in bed.

Robin hung his favorite coat on a hanger, perched above a makeshift desk, whereupon there sat a clutter if maps and figurines, worn heavily by use in ceaseless planning and strategizing, though Robin never grew tired of his perfect microcosm. He sighed audibly, gazing at the trinkets, when a familiar voice cooed at him: "Hey, hey, hey, night-owl," a set of eyes glistened beneath a wealth of perfectly tied maroon hair.  
"Anna," Robin recognized, slightly relieved, "what are you doing up so late?"  
"What? A girl can't check up on her hubby every now and again? Make sure you aren't up to something?" she chuckled gleefully to herself, "anyways, I might ask you the same thing. What are you burning the midnight oil for?"  
"Oh, you know me," Robin moved disarmingly, "just doing my strategy thing."  
"Well, you're right in that regard: I know you. I know you're lying through your teeth."  
Robin tensed, feeling the same pressure he had felt under Chrom's inquisition. Robin chose to avoid a repeat performance, "We're near the end, I know, and it's getting to me. The stress and pressure of it all," he provided.  
His wife was not satisfied with the response, but she sensed her husband's discomfort, "I see... Well, know that I'm here for good and bad. You know you can confide in me, Robin," she hinted.  
Robin ignored her: "Thank you."  
Anna yawned, opening her mouth wide and closing it with a little squeak. Her husband had become aware of and endeared to her tendency to make that squeak, and thus laughed in spite of himself. "I should be getting to bed," his redheaded beauty admitted, putting a finger to her chin and smiling sweetly, as was her habit, though her eyes pleaded for her husband's further disclosure.  
He denied her again, though his own passions insisted. He kissed his wife deeply before saying, "Good night, and thank you, Anna. I love you."  
"Love you too, honey," she retreated from the tent, blushing in surprise and winking as she left.  
Robin began to settle himself in, donning his sleepwear and rearranging his books to busy himself until fatigue set in. Presently, another glistening pair of eyes beneath a maroon visage peered into his tent, this time, however, they belonged to his daughter from the future, Morgan. "Father ?" she poked her head in concernedly.  
"Morgan? My, but you're up late," her father replied in much the same dismissive tone as he'd showed her mother.  
"Father, there are rumors that you had a confrontation with Chrom, and mother seems worried about you. Is something the matter?" her eyes sparkled in the tent's meager candlelight as she regarded her father.  
"As I told your mother, I appreciate your concern, but it is unfounded. I'm just a bit stressed in preparation for our confrontation with the Fell Dragon," came Robin's reply.  
"I suppose that makes sense..." Morgan resigned, "but I cannot shake the feeling that something is amiss..." Her father regarded her closely, remembering the Mark of Grima, her only inheritance, which adorned her shoulder, much like Chrom's brand. Though, for obvious reasons, she did not wear it with the same pride. "Might... Might I sleep in your tent tonight, father? I still fear for you..." she broke his trance.  
A warm smile creased Robin's otherwise pained face. Though she was his daughter, he had never held her, or read her to sleep, or other such things which fathers do for their daughters. Now, he realized, might be his only opportunity.  
"Of course, dear."

The day came. The Shepherds mounted up and formed upon Grima, the Fell Dragon. Upon mounting the beast's back, the conflict began in earnest. Chrom and Robin raced toward Grima's incarnation, a spitting image of Robin, as one. The remaining Shepherds, Anna and Morgan among them, fought to stem the Grimleal congregating on the creature. Upon approaching Grima, the Fell Dragon taunted and growled viciously at Robin. Chrom brought forth the Exalted Falchion and prepared to strike. Grima anticipated the attack, however, and moved to strike down his foe with a mighty tendril, but his counter was interrupted by Robin, who scorched the blade-like appendage with a great bolt of lightning that fizzled and popped upon impact. "YOU! HOW DARE YOU?! DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT WILL BECOME OF YOU IF I AM VANQUISHED?" the Fell Dragon's incarnation railed.  
"Actually, I know it all too well. I know that everything you are and will be can come to an end here."  
The Fell Dragon itself gave a mighty roar, then its incarnation spoke, "SPARE ME YOUR HEROIC BRAVADO. I CANNOT BE DEFEATED. YOU AND YOUR WORTHLESS DREAMS WILL DIE AND BE LEFT IN THE DIRT AMONG YOUR FRIENDS' CARCASSES."  
"It's my chance to redeem myself for what we've done," Robin reaffirmed, now calmly and with confidence, "you've lost, Grima."  
"Robin, what are you doing?!" Chrom cried in vain, chasing after his friend, who loosed a colossal thunderbolt on the Fell Dragon's incarnation, which howled and buzzed with a mighty blast as it struck. The creature screamed in horror, the incarnation falling to its knees. Robin stopped and mirrored Grima's incarnation. Chrom continued running, finally reaching his comrade. Grasping Robin's shoulders, the collapsed form pleaded mistily, "Tell Anna... and Morgan... my final thoughts were with them." Having spoken, the tactician was consumed by a flame of amethyst and gold, as was his villainous counterpart. Chrom felt his eyes grow heavy, noting several wounds along his body, "ROBIN!" he cried as he collapsed onto the Fell Dragon's back.

A few amber flecks of sand whipped along the wind, intermingling in the shimmering indigo glare of the Shepherds' captain's hair as he suddenly roused himself. He stood groggily, his eyes drawn to the edges of the crater into which he and, as he now realized, all of the Shepherds had been dropped. Casting his gaze further, Chrom discovered the colossal bones of the creature they had defeated. He had defeated, Chrom's thoughts corrected, and then his mind returned to Robin. As the other Shepherds began to awaken and, naturally, coalesce around Chrom, he announced that there was no trace of the tactician. Cries of despair and sorrow rang out, though they were followed quickly by each of the Shepherds reassuring the others that their beloved friend would return. Two voices, however, remained relatively silent. Two pairs of eyes, glittering like diamonds, two heads of red hair, made bright as rubies by the morning sun, trudged toward the captain, sobbing and whimpering intermittently. Chrom slammed his eyes shut, unable to bear the weight of their stares. "I'm sorry..." was all he could muster.  
"I-... I wish he could have stayed to see me grow stronger," a voice Chrom recognized as his wife's murmured. "To see all of us grow stronger. It is unbecoming of us, and unworthy of Robin's sacrifice, for us all to speak as though we are defeated. The day is ours, thanks to Robin; let us celebrate his sacrifice by moving forward."  
"You're quite right, dear," Chrom said, composing himself to reassure the two redheads before him, "it's time we all returned to our lives, which have been granted back to us by Robin. I, as captain of the Shepherds and acting Exalt of Ylisse, declare this war ended, and all of your conscriptions hereto forth terminated," he announced loudly, before taking his wife in his arm, kissing her pale cheek and striding off, his voice all the while muddled by mixed pride, despair, and confusion.

Weeks, months passed. Anna returned to her shop alongside her new assistant, and while she remained friendly to customers and certainly did not lose her business acumen, those who visited Anna (or, at least, this particular Anna) felt she had lost the vim and vigor of her sisters. Her daughter noticed it, too, as she had been experiencing the same general loss of energy. The future was equal parts as bright and as bleak as it had ever been for the two. As she lay down one cool evening, the sky glittering in perfect contrast to the black-blue surrounding it, she pondered her husband as she had for many weeks since his death. "I was wrong," she sighed aloud, "I love you even more than money." She rolled onto her side, suddenly gripped by self-contempt, "Gods, I'd trade all the gold in the world for a chance to be with you again..."  
"Mother?" a soft voice interjected.  
"Oh, Morgan," Anna blushed slightly, realizing her child had caught her talking to herself, "what's the matter?"  
"I'm concerned about you," Morgan retorted.  
Anna laughed disarmingly, "Sorry I have you so worried, sweetie. Your mom's just fine. Still a little broke up about your dad, but..." her eyes clouded a bit at the thought, "Well, aren't we all?"  
"You look tired, mother," Morgan pressed, "maybe you should take a day off or something."  
"Don't be silly," she flashed a bright saleswoman's smile at her daughter, "I've got to keep the shop open. I've been doing this as long as I can remember, there'll be no closing up for extenuating circumstances now!"  
"That's not helping, mother," her daughter's eyes drooped. Realizing she was getting nowhere, she begged, "Just don't work too hard, alright? I already lost father, I don't need..." she decided not to finish the thought.  
Anna patted her daughter on the head and ran her fingers lightly through the silky red hair, mussing it up a bit, causing Morgan to briefly cast an annoyed glare at her mother. "Worrying never really solved anything, hun. You should get back to bed," she mused. Morgan looked at her mother exasperatedly then stepped outside. "Now if only I could heed my own advice," Anna settled uneasily into an armchair which sat next to her cot. It had been a gift from Robin and was still imbued with his scent. Though cumbersome to transport, she had never gone anywhere without it. Robin had once remarked that she looked like a princess upon a throne when she sat in it, whereupon she had beckoned him to take her place. As he sat, she commented that he, too, looked like a bold king awaiting his crown. "Yet, I cannot be a king without my queen," he had cooed, and she hopped into his lap as they shared a long, passionate kiss, his fingers coursing through her hair and pressing down the nape of her neck. She found herself feeling giddy at his touch, as Robin wasn't precisely a man of passion and, thereby, did not frequently give in to fits of excitement like this. They slept together that evening and she could not bring herself to let him go, arms resting on his broad shoulders and hands lightly rubbing his back. It was one of her favorite memories of their being together. Anna looked up wistfully as sleep began to consume her, her husband's name passing over her lips as she slipped down.

Chrom stared out the grand window of his bedroom. His eyes focused on a small tree in the yard, but his mind was occupied elsewhere. A delicate hand clutched his shoulder, but he was not startled, "Lovely weather, isn't it?" his wife remarked into his ear.  
He continued to stare out the window, unfazed, "Yes, beautiful."  
"I can tell your thoughts are still with Robin."  
Chrom looked back into his wife's eyes, perhaps he was mistaken, but her tone seemed rather frustrated, "I can't seem to help it," he admitted. "I still feel as though there was more I could have done, more I SHOULD have done..."  
"Such thoughts do not befit a sovereign," Sumia prodded at her husband. "One of your subordinates disobeyed orders and paid for it."  
Chrom whipped around to face her, casting a vicious glare and grasping one of her shoulders, "'One of my subordinates?' He was my friend, dammit!"  
"And mine as well!" Sumia's face flushed red, "I only wished to help you be done with your obsessive concern over him, that, gods forbid, you might pay attention to your wife, child, or, at the very least, your duties!"  
Chrom stopped, removing his hand from her shoulder. He shuddered slightly, "You... you're right. Again. I have been irresponsible. Forgive me, Sumia," he stated, out of breath.  
"Finally, you recognize it, at least-"  
"I am not yet fit to hold the title of Exalt," Chrom started out of the room.  
"What?!" his wife exclaimed after him.  
"You must rule in my stead while I find closure for myself," he continued.  
"Chrom, you can't just leave me..." her words fell in vain, as her husband had already departed.


	2. An Obligation

An Obligation

(or "A Promise Chapter 2")

Again, days and weeks passed. The captain's blue hair swayed in the shimmering sun, currently a ball of white light high in the sky, surrounded by a sea of light blue, much the same as it had that one fateful morning. The silent poetry of the summer was broken for Chrom, however, by his sister's none-too-well concealed moaning. "You know, you could have just stayed home," Chrom rolled his eyes.

"No way," his sister barked, "If you're gonna go all across the continent instead of serving as Exalt, I'm coming with you to make sure you don't decide to do anything even dumber."

"Are you trying to lecture me, Lissa?" the captain shifted an eyebrow.

"You know, Sumia's already unhappy with you, the people have begun to think you're either aloof or a craven... The whole family's in a bit of a PR slump, because of this, Chrom," Lissa vented, crossing her arms and scowling, the elaborate ponytails in her hair bouncing as she accentuated each syllable.

A stoic air took over Chrom's face, "I know," he proclaimed to no one in particular.

"No, I don't think you do," Lissa pressed.

"Lissa..."

"You'd be better served to return to the Halidom, tail between your legs-"

"Lissa!"

"-And don't interrupt me while I'm speaking, do you know how rude that is? Gods, you don't even have the manners to be-"

"LISSA!"

"What?!"

"Look," Chrom said, casting his arm to a crumpled mass covered by a pile of thick blue and gold fabric.

"You don't think..." Lissa's words were lost in her consideration. Her brother nodded to her with some resolve. "But what if he has, uh, 'an-nees-yuh' like before?" Lissa's head sunk.

"We'll greet him the same way we did then. Remember what you said?" the captain planned, eyes shining.

"I think so," Lissa stepped closer to the collapsed tactician. "Chrom, we have to do something!"

"What do you propose we do?"

Chrom recited, happy his sister was playing along.

"I don't know."

The tactician's eyes wrenched open and both Chrom and Lissa gasped in now-genuine surprise.

"I see you're awake now," Chrom remarked.

"Hey there," Lissa said coyly.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," Chrom continued, a hint of snark penetrating his voice. He gazed into Robin's eyes and saw what he knew not to be confusion, as it had been when they had first met, but total, abject understanding. Chrom even though he saw a smile playing along Robin's lips. "Give me your hand," Chrom offered, pulling Robin up with little effort, then, as the two stood before each other once more, Chrom added, "Welcome back. It's over now."

Robin looked down at his hand, looking for the Mark of Grima, but seeing that it had disappeared. "Then, the Fell Dragon..."

"Gone," reassured Chrom.

"You're certain?" Robin stared concernedly.

"As certain as I can be and on my honor as Exalt," Chrom asserted.

"Ah, you're the Exalt now..." Robin continued to process the situation in his head, "but, then, what are you doing out here?"

At that, Lissa cast a snide glare at her brother, "I came because I knew I had to find you," Chrom managed above his sister's silent indictment.

"Thank you, Chrom. You truly are my greatest friend," Robin said happily, earning him a glare from Lissa that said "don't encourage him."

"Then why did you leave us, Robin? Why, when you could have saved yourself and we would have sealed the Fell Dragon regardless?" Chrom begged, finding the heart of the issue.

"I explained this before, Chrom. I didn't want Grima defeated, I wanted him removed from existence. For you, for your children... For my child." Robin explained wistfully, "to do otherwise would have been selfish."

Chrom bit his lip at the word. "Selfish? Do you think I, your wife, or your daughter wanted to watch you die? How dare you call my plan 'selfish?'" Chrom raved.

Robin searched his friend's eyes, now leering scathingly into his own, "Did you seek me only to argue the point, Chrom? What has gotten into you?"

"You have consumed my life with worry for you... My wife, my kingdom, they are all upset with me..." Chrom told the ground, his eyes growing despondent, "only to have you call my genuine concern for you selfish!"

"I don't recall making any of those things happen," Robin cooled, his own fists now clenching, "When did I hold a blade to your throat and command that you seek me?"

"You dare mock me?!" Chrom lashed out, unsheathing Falchion from his side.

"Chrom! Are you mad?!" Lissa screeched between a few tears.

He ignored her and waved Falchion at the tactician, "I have found you, and now I am finished with you. Seek hospitality elsewhere, stranger, for I've no place for an exile in my country."

"I still cannot understand what has caused you such pain, but I will do as you ask," Robin replied neutrally, "Now, I disappear." The tactician began to walk toward the sun, lowered slightly from its place atop the sky, casting his shadow onto his former friend's back for a minute or two until they both disappeared over the other's horizon.

The night settled in gracefully. The constant chirp of cicadas kept it very much alive, but the grass and the sky were awash with the same marvelous azure tint as Anna extinguished the small torches around her shop, one at a time, licking her index finger and thumb and grasping at the wick, shaking the heat from her fingers each time as the smoke rose like clockwork. The sound of footsteps caught her ears; "Oh, come on in," she announced in the same chipper tone she used for all her customers, putting a finger to her chin and smiling like always.

"Hail, milady," a voice replied, "Do you have any room for a lost dog?"

"Huh? What dog?" Anna replied.

A mess of brown hair was set aglow by the remaining torchlight as her husband stepped into view, "Just this one," came his response. Anna was dumbstruck; anger, joy, and sorrow flooded her mind all at once so that she only fell forward into her lover's arms, sobbing quietly. He held his wife in silence a minute letting her heave and cry into his cloak.

"Your customer service is terrible," she smiled slightly into his eyes, her own still glistening with tears, "I've been waiting forever."

"I appreciate your patronage. Maybe I can give you something extra." He smiled, brushing a few maroon locks out of her face.

She drew back from his grasp, earning a puzzled look from her husband, "I'm sorry... I just... Need a minute," her glittering eyes casting to each side.

"Oh," Robin tried unsuccessfully to hide his disappointment, "Of course. Take all the time you need, honey." Her eyes flooded upon hearing the nickname.

"F-father?" another voice caught Robin's attention. "Oh, gods have mercy, father!" Morgan fawned, springing to her father's side, hugging him like a vice.

"Ack! Gods... Hello Morgan. I'm very glad to see you, too," he managed. For several minutes, she, too, heaved into her father's cloak, recounting how much she had missed and loved her father in increasing volume but decreasing in coherency. Her sobs eventually became so loud and heavy that she began to retch. Her father patted her back softly, "It's alright, it's alright. Daddy's here. Everything is going to be fine." He cooed for several minutes until he could no longer hear her, whereupon he discovered she had fallen asleep in his arms. Smiling warmly, Robin lifted his daughter up, arms supporting her by the knees and neck, carried her to a smaller nearby tent and placed her on the cot inside, placing a peck on her forehead as he withdrew. Robin returned to his wife, looking her up and down a moment. She still seemed radiant despite her countenance and the quickly fading torchlight. "I'm sorry I had you so worried. I wish there was more I could say for myself, but that's it. I did what I felt I had to, and-"

"Shh," she pressed her finger on top of his lips. "It could take some time," she glanced sideways again, "but I think I can come to forgive you. I did marry you, after all. Can I ask you a question, though?"

"Naturally," Robin replied.

"Why did you lie to me that night?"

Robin steeled himself; this was the question he had been anticipating the entire walk to the tent, "I told Chrom earlier that afternoon, and he nearly lost it. That, and I was afraid that if I told you, you might try to stop me,"

"I'd be a pretty crappy wife if I didn't," she interjected.

"Right," her husband agreed, "I just knew it had to be done. I'm sorry. That's my only justification."

Robin watched carefully as his wife mulled the response over for a moment, all the while reciprocating her husband's evaluating glances, "You apologize a little too much for your own good," she eventually smirked at him.

"I'm just trying my best to start making up for my decision," Robin replied, hoping her remark was a positive indication.

Anna took the tie out of her hair and let it flow freely about her shoulders, something even Robin had rarely seen her do, outside of his occasional glimpses of her dressing and undressing routines.

"Good plan. You can start tonight," she beckoned him with her index finger and an impish smile. Robin's face flared beet red, comprehending the gesture soundly. He stepped toward his wife, whereupon she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and began to kiss him, then leapt off her feet, hooking her legs around his waist, his arms moving to hold them in place. They moved to the tent and... progressed on into the night, the moon rising in a brilliant tan-gold hue that evening.

Sumia waited at the doorway, unsure of what to do. A well kempt blue hairdo invaded her vision. Her husband had returned late the previous afternoon, and while she was none to pleased with his flippant abandonment if both her and his responsibilities, Sumia could not help but be relieved, if not a little pleased, that he had returned. "What are you up to, darling?" Chrom asked as politely as possible. Sumia was contented to see that her husband recognized his position.

"I was going to ask Lucina if she would like to meet, well, herself," Sumia whispered.

"I think that's a fine idea."

"You don't think it will cause a 'pair-of-docks,' or whatever it's called?"

"No, I don't think so. Besides, I would like for both Lucinas to feel as though they are part of the family. Maybe this will remind our guest from the future of that." The parents walked slowly into their daughter's room. Lucina was packing several articles of clothing into a bag, punctuating the assortment with her Falchion and a rapier in two sheaths at each side of the bag.

"Mother, father, good morrow," she smiled slightly as they entered.

"What are you packing all these things for, Lucina?" her father asked, picking up an article of the clothing she was putting away.

"I'm preparing to leave Ylisstol and journey about the world," Lucina stated, staring into the bag, then upon turning to her father she added, "Do you need my smallclothes for something in particular, father?"

Chrom dropped the article like it was made of molten lead.

"Whatever for?" Sumia attempted to salvage the conversation.

"My duty is at an end; I've no further purpose here," Lucina replied simply.

"Nonsense," Chrom began to recover, "Duty or not, you're my daughter. I'll not have you leaving the Halidom because we're at peace."

"That's the problem," earnest disappointment creased Lucina's face, "Much though I liked the illusion, I am not 'your' daughter, per se, but rather the daughter of a Chrom who has since ceased to exist."

"Don't speak like that," Chrom took a step closer to his daughter, holding the bundle that contained her younger self, "Do you see this baby, Lucina? To me, you and her are one and the same."

"As do I," her mother chimed in.

Lucina smiled broadly, then recoiled a bit, "Thank you mother, father, but I still want a chance to explore a world that isn't ruined. To see trees and rivers, forests and mountains," her eyes twinkled as she gazed upward at her fictitious sights, "and I'd like to pay Robin a visit to properly thank him."

Chrom moved to protest but his wife cast a glare that slapped his mouth shut. "If that is what you desire, then so be it, dear. But remember that you are always welcome here," Sumia said wearing a sunny grin.

"Thank you, mother, it is, and I won't," she picked up the bag and walked out the palace doors.


	3. A Question

A Question

(or "A Promise Chapter 3")

The morning sun shone a pale orange in the sky. Birds' incessant chatter dominated the burgeoning atmosphere. Shafts of soft yellow light penetrated the flaps and weaving of Anna's tent, one of which alighted the face of Robin, who sat up groggily after being exposed to it. Robin rubbed his eyes and stroked his thick, shaggy brown hair back, letting out a stifled yawn. He glanced to his side, but did not discover his wife, as he expected, but instead found a note:

"Dear Robin,

Pardon my impertinence, but I had to meet with a supplier early this morning. Help yourself to food and drink. I should be back in just an hour or two. With any luck, you won't even need to read this note.

Sincerely,

Your Loving Wife, Anna"

Robin tossed the note aside, visibly disappointed. He continued to sit upright on the cot, considering what to do next, until a voice hailed just outside the tent. Robin stood, unsure of whether he should answer. He elected to give it a try and was rather relieved to find Lucina awaiting him as he opened the tent flap. Lucina didn't seem as pleased, however. She gasped aloud and snapped her head to the side, covering her blushing face. Robin looked down at his feet in searching for the cause of her surprise. Processing for a moment, he realized he had not put on clothes yet and now stood in front of Lucina stark naked. "Agh! Gods!" Robin threw himself into the tent and closed it behind him. After several minutes, he re-emerged, this time, much to Lucina's gratitude, fully clothed in his Grandmaster robes.

"That's already quite a bit more than I bargained for this morning," Lucina joked dryly.

Robin was blushing profusely, "Terribly sorry about that. It's still a little early for me. Can I help you with something, Lucina?"

"Indeed, you already have," Lucina beamed an appreciative smile, "I wished to extend my gratitude for defeating the Fell Dragon, even at the probable risk of your own life."

"Still," Robin had also wanted to speak with Lucina for quite some time about an incident not long before Grima's end where she had threatened his life, "it makes me think you might have been right after all."

Lucina had been anticipating the subject, "Not at all. You proved your own point. Had you not been there, not only would our chances of success have been greatly reduced, but we would only have been able to seal Grima at best. The future is looking as bright as can be, and I have you to thank for that."

"Couldn't have done it without you, or any of the other Shepherds, for that matter," Robin replied, still trying to put forth modesty.

"I suppose you could say we all did it together," Lucina surmised happily. She cocked her head slightly, awaiting any further reply from Robin, but he only sat and stared into the periwinkle eyes, where, at last, hope had replaced fear and anxiety. He smiled at that.

"Yoo-hoo!" yelled a certain red and yellow-clad woman. As she drew near, she glanced at her husband and took a more full glimpse at Lucina, "What are you two chatting about?"

Lucina answered first, "I was expressing my gratitude to Robin for, well, saving us all."

"And I was, in turn, reminding her that I wouldn't have had a chance without her, you, and all the others," Robin continued. Anna stepped in front of her husband, blocking his view of Lucina and vice-versa.

She turned her head to Lucina, "A moment, if we may?" Lucina nodded her head quickly in acquiescence. "Thank you."

Anna stepped into the tent, holding on to her husband's shoulder as he followed. "Sorry about this morning," she glanced down at the note, cast aside, "I really needed to meet with that supplier. And.."

Robin gestured with his hand for his wife to continue, "'And...?'"

"And my head's still sort of swimming about this whole ordeal," she finished, looking somber.

"That's all right. You waited for me; I'm prepared to do the same," Robin resolved.

"I appreciate that," Anna placed a hand on his shoulder again, projecting a tender look into his eyes. "She wasn't, um, 'expressing her gratitude' in anything other than words, yeah?"

Robin's face flared up, "Anna, please! She's Chrom's daughter, for Naga's sake; Morgan's age!"

"Just thought it pertinent to ask..." Anna trailed off.

"Do you not trust me?" Robin advanced toward her, morbid curiosity staining his face.

"No, honey, of course I trust you," she cooed as sweetly as possible, embracing her husband and pressing her face into his shoulder, "She's the one I distrust. I saw her point Falchion at you that one evening..."

"Saw that, did you?" Robin continued. His focus was not on the conversation, however. He was much more interested in the fact that he was being granted the opportunity to hold his wife tenderly again. Seizing the chance, he let his arms wrap around her and his hands slide down to the small of her back.

"Ooh!" his wife shuddered a bit at her husband's touch. "Cool it a second, hotshot," she poked, "we've still got company." She pecked her husband's cheek before beckoning him to step back outside. He chuckled, following suit.

"Will there be anything further, Lucina?" Robin asked, seeing the impatience clearly written on the young lord's face.

"No, I think I'll get to moving on now. I just wanted to make certain you are aware of how grateful I am for your hand in saving the

future," she smiled, looking up to the glinting sun.

"Where will you go?" Robin wondered aloud.

"I'm not yet entirely certain. I plan to simply travel the world, taking in the sights," she smiled again, now taking steps to leave.

"I wish you a safe journey, then," Robin concluded.

"You've my blessings as well," Anna contributed.

"Thank you both, goodbye!" Lucina announced, stepping out of view.

"Well, we've some time to kill," Robin glanced sidelong at his wife. "What shall we do?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes incredulously, "Some of us have businesses to run."

"Maybe I can help," Robin glanced about the storefront, "I'd like to begin making myself useful."

"Why don't you go check on our daughter?" she pushed him aside playfully.

"Yes, milady," he shrugged his shoulders, reciprocating his wife's mocking tone. Robin walked toward the smaller tent which housed his daughter and walked inside.

"Gah! Father! You might at least announce your presence!" Morgan scolded, hastily covering herself with her own grandmaster's robes.

"My apologies, sweetheart, but your mother and I could use your assistance out front," he gestured toward the storefront with his thumb.

"Right away," she followed her father out of the tent, pausing a moment to hug him as they reported in to Anna.

Most of the day passed uneventfully for the newly reunited trio, save for the arrival of a certain pink-haired bow knight. "My, my. The lovely Morgan, just the woman I wanted to see," he smiled, projecting his voice earnestly.

"A good morrow to you as well, Inigo," Morgan laughed good-naturedly, she imitated her mother's chipper tone, "What can I get you?"

"An audience with your lovely self, perchance?" Inigo lowered his elbow onto the desk that served as the storefront.

"Keep walking, pretty boy," she smiled and put a hand in front of his face.

"Oh, won't you give me a chance?" Inigo folded his arms atop the desk, pleading, "Even just a single evening would do!"

Morgan rolled her eyes, then settled them back down on his quivering lips, "Fine," she sighed.

"Please, I... -What?" Inigo stuttered.

"One date. One night. How about that little restaurant that's all covered in ivy downtown? It looks so charming..." Morgan gazed upward dreamily, clearly more focused on the restaurant than her suitor.

Inigo smiled broadly, "Absolutely! Whatever milady desires!"

Robin stepped forth, placing a protective hand on his daughter's shoulder and laying a glare into Inigo, "And what does milady desire?"

Inigo's face became white as a sheet as he stuttered incoherently a moment until Morgan spoke: "I was going to accompany Inigo for dinner this evening, father."

Robin's face remained uneasy but softened a bit as he turned to face his daughter, "And you're certain about that?"

"Yes, father. Please, there's no need to intervene," Morgan scowled at her father.

Robin nodded succinctly, deferring to his daughter's whim. He turned again to Inigo and whispered, "Show my daughter a pleasant evening, and bear in mind that if you try anything funny, or, may the gods forbid, hurt her, I will snap your neck like a twig. Do I make my parameters clear?"

"Crystal, my good man!" Inigo squirmed under Robin's glare. He was reassured, however, as Morgan took up his arm and began to walk alongside him. Robin merely sighed, resigning himself to the fact of the matter.

Night wore on quickly as the store remained quiet in the slowly stifling hours of remaining daylight, the landscape again covered in a brilliant azure texture and several wayward leaves dropping with a great clatter as they hit and rolled along the ground. Robin opened the tent flap to find his wife dutifully sorting inventory into piles, her eyes glowing with intrigue, but very clearly sagged with exhaustion, and her beautifully tied hair swaying from side to side as she looked over and sorted, looked over and sorted. "It used to be I was the one who worked himself to death," Robin smiled to his wife.

She stopped her process, "Care to help speed this along, then?" she curtly smiled back to him.

"I thought I might simply take over and allow you to rest," Robin explained, walking closer to her.

She pondered the offer a moment, pressing her index finger to her chin. "Alright," she supposed, "only a few odds and ends left anyway. You know how my sorting works, right?"

Robin had watched his wife tabulate her inventory before and remembered the system well: by type, alphabetically descending by name, and, finally, by condition. While he could never match his wife's speed, Robin felt certain he had mastered the pattern, "Of course."

Anna tossed herself onto her cot, "Take it away, then." She rolled to one side and shut her eyes.

Robin set to work organizing, sliding vulneraries this way and that, stacking up swords, lances, shields, staves, axes, and potions. 'Odds and ends,' indeed, he groaned to himself. When all was said and done, he stepped outside to admire the evening's beauty again, whereupon he found his daughter locked in a kiss with Inigo.

"Uh, goodnight. And thank you," Morgan broke away upon seeing her father. She blushed slightly and winked as she walked away. Inigo turned to face Robin and grew pale again, but walked off and counted his blessings when Robin shrugged his shoulders and walked back into his and his wife's tent. Inside, Anna slept. A curious feeling consumed Robin. He had never really watched anyone sleep before, but for some reason, the rhythmic movement of his wife's stomach and the intermittent sounds of her eased breath relaxed him and warmed him to his very soul. Robin settled into the cot as gently as possible and allowed his mind to wander, smiling broadly as sleep set in.

Anna awoke beside her sleeping husband. It was still dark, still, so what had woken her? Unable to force herself back to sleep, she stood and inspected her husband's handiwork. He had gotten a little sloppy toward the end, but everything was in its proper place, at least, and Anna was pleased. She stepped outside the tent, relieved to see nothing awaiting her, then laughing at her own anxiety. She walked to her daughter's tent and peered in as hastily as possible, finding her sleeping soundly, like her father. Anna shrugged as she gave up the search and returned to her cot, lowering herself back onto it carefully. She could not avoid rousing her husband, however. "Something the matter, honey?" Robin asked, eyes still shut and with tremendously groggy voice.

"No, I just couldn't get back to sleep. Sorry baby," she whispered back.

"S'alright. I'm a really light sleeper. Not your fault," he yawned, rolling over to face her. She reached over his shoulder and placed a hand on his back, then pressed her face between his neck and shoulder so that she was wrapped up in him completely. He complied, bundling her up with both arms, sighing contentedly as he smelled her sweet breath at his side.

"I haven't said it in a while, and for that, I apologize, but, I love you, Robin," she looked for his lips but instead kissed his chin.

"No need to..." he yawned, trailing off, "apologize, sweetheart. I love you too," he opened his eyes a moment to wink and close them again, then kissed her forehead and stroked her back gently. Finding herself at peace, Anna's eyes dragged themselves shut and she quickly returned to sleep.

Morning came rather quickly, and brought with it the chill of the changing seasons, a predominantly warm autumn, the majority of which Robin had been absent for, was giving way to a much less forgiving winter. Anna awoke shivering slightly at the bite of the cold. She scowled at the feeling. Anna detested cold, both for the fact that she didn't have a warm home to ward it away and that there would be much fewer customers finding their way to her. She removed herself from her husband's loose grip, much to her own displeasure, grimacing. She peeked out of the tent's flap and, seeing no one, quickly retreated back inside, whereupon she was unable to stifle a loud sneeze. Her husband sat up with a sigh of fatigue and rubbed his eyes as he looked at his wife, whom he saw quivering like a leaf and wiping her nose with a handkerchief. "Are you alright?" he asked. Anna attempted to reply, but another sneeze overrode her words. "Poor thing," Robin murmured as he took his coat from the rack and draped it over her shoulders, as she accepted the gift gratefully. She stopped shaking, at least, and sat down to wrap herself in the jacket more completely, sniffling with a miserable sigh here and there.

Morgan entered with a small yawn, "Good morning mother, father. Rather chilly today, isn't it?" Her eyes fell upon her mother, still pressing the handkerchief to her face, which was reddening with each passing moment.

Robin's eyes widened and his brow furrowed with concern, "Care for some tea or coffee?" he cooed very softly to his wife. She nodded twice and managed, "Tea would be best," before sneezing again.

"Of course," Robin tried to perk up and gave a sunny smile, "I know a recipe for spearmint tea that will have you on your feet and past any affliction in no time." He walked over to Morgan and whispered a few orders to her before stepping over to the pile of inventory gathered in the back corner of the tent. Morgan kneeled next to her mother and placed the back of her hand against her mother's forehead.

She waited a moment before announcing, "No, it's not too bad." Says you, Anna thought. She hugged her mother tightly, "Warm enough?" Anna nodded slowly, craning her neck to see how her husband's tea was coming. He busily hummed a melody and moved his arms deftly as he picked up and combined ingredients. "Just another minute," Morgan reassured her mother. She patted and stroked Anna's back as they waited until Robin brought over a steaming cup with a pungent but pleasant aroma.

"Careful, it's still quite hot," he cautioned, handing the cup to his wife.

Ignoring the warning, she lifted the soft white china to her lips and sucked down a third of the steaming liquid. Her face reddened even deeper for a moment, but she then sat back and sighed loudly, rolling her eyes back in pleasure, "Nectar of Naga, but that is good!" she heralded. "Wherever did you learn to make something so wonderful, honey?" she looked over to her husband gleefully.

Robin scratched the back of his neck, attempting to find the memory containing the answer. Not finding it, he concluded, "My mother... I think."

"Well, I think you can start making a cup of this beautiful elixir every day!" she cheered, happily taking another big gulp from the cup.

"Can I try, father?" Morgan grew curious.

Robin laughed, "Maybe later. Come on you two, we should get packed up to move before winter is upon us." As he walked by his wife, he planted a kiss on her cheek, adding, "You know, I don't think you could look any cuter right now."


End file.
